


Pride and Prejudice

by onlythefinest



Series: Whichever Lines Challenge [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, whichever lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlythefinest/pseuds/onlythefinest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Nix has never seen anyone care about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pride and Prejudice

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my Whichever Lines Challenge.

∙♠∙♠∙♠∙♠∙

_It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife_

 ∙♠∙♠∙♠∙♠∙

               Lewis Nixon was no such single man. If anything, he was in want of a fine bottle of whiskey, a little bit of excitement, and an avenue to get far away from the wife he _did_ have. And after OCS, the 501 st PIR seemed to be the best option for him.  
  
                Of course he told Cathy he would miss her and he would write her; he did neither.  
  
                And it came first with the nine months Easy spent in England, with weekend passes to London, most of which were frequently revoked by Sobel, their unfortunate Captain, Commanding. Aldbourne wasn’t a bad little town, and Nix had access to decent beer and wine, so he wouldn’t have to waste his beloved VAT69 before the big jump.  
  
                 And it first came when he tried to coax Dick from the Barnes’ home to enjoy a night with him and the rest of the men.  
  
                 Nix manages to get Dick out of the house and halfway down the street before the redhead stops him. “Lew, you’ve already been drinking,” he says in that chastising Mother Tone Nix never heard in his childhood.    
  
                “Well, yeah,” Nix replies easily, because he’s never had problems discussing his _problem_ before. But he doesn’t address it as a problem, not really--merely a quirky personality trait. “That doesn’t mean I have to stop now.”  
  
                Dick pins him with that look, the look that’s worried and disappointed and annoyed and caring and exasperated, all at once. Nix spares only a second thinking how so many emotions can be contained in one look, and how that one look can make him feel like a child with his hand in the liquor cabinet after midnight. “Maybe you’d like to come back to the Barnes’ instead,” Dick suggests, his face smoothing over into a single expression: hopefulness.  
  
                But Nix has never seen someone actually _care_ what he does with his life, unless those people were his parents, and even then they’d only wanted him to graduate Yale and come back to New Jersey and settle down and take over the family business, preferably with a nice wife at his side. He was far more interested in just getting away from them, getting away from Cathy. When he told his parents he was going to OCS and then the army someplace, their disappointment had been nearly palpable. He didn’t have to join the army—he could have done anything with his life and they would have paid for it. He had never seen someone look hopeful as his parents did when his father asked if he was serious. He had never seen someone look hopeful as he did when he promised Cathy he’d write her.  
  
                Nix has never seen someone look hopeful as Dick did just then. It was a strange feeling, knowing someone wanted him to stop drinking. No one had ever seemed to care before, and if they did, they never told him.  
  
                He knows what Dick is really saying. He is really saying, “Why don’t you skip out on the party and come back to some dull British family’s house and play a round of bridge before bed?”  
  
                 And it comes to Nixon then, that there is someone in Fortress Europa, in the world, that cares whether he gets completely drunk at the officer’s club, and that someone is trying to talk him out of it, and that someone is Dick Winters.  
  
                But Nix has never seen someone actually _care_ what he does with his life. He smiles, a wane sort of lip-twitch that is fleeting and hardly there to begin with. “Y’know, Dick—you can go on back,” he says, leaning against the low wall that separates some house’s garden from the street. He tugs his hipflask free and turns it round in his hands, but doesn’t drink, not yet. “Don’t want a teetotaler like you there ruining our fun, anyhow,” he jokes and unscrews the cap, gives Dick that mischievous grin as he tips back a mouthful. Dick watches him, silent, observing. _Judgin_ g,Nix thinks idly as he caps the flask and shoves it snug in his back pocket. He pushes himself away from the low wall and starts to saunter away from Dick, casting a wave over his shoulder and the comment, “Try not to have too much fun playing bridge with the Barneses.”


End file.
